Europe Grapples with Trump and Self-Reflection from Brussels to Warsaw
The upcoming months are crucial for the Atlantic alliance, as a divided continent faces significant challenges in rising to meet the moment.
Europe is not a monolith; it encompasses a range of attitudes and approaches toward its most significant political, military, and economic ally, the United States. Nations are at various levels of concern about the prospect of a returning president who may exhibit ambivalence toward traditional alliances, having previously threatened to undermine NATO and instigate a trade war.
To gauge the kind of Europe that will welcome Trump next year, I recently traveled through three key capitals. My journey began in Brussels, moved on to Berlin, and culminated in a week-long stay in Poland, the EU country that shares borders with both Russia and Ukraine.
In Berlin, much like my recent observations in Paris, I witnessed a European powerhouse ensnared in its own domestic challenges, seemingly unable to address the situation effectively in the near future. However, I was surprised to find in Warsaw and, to a lesser extent, in Brussels, a serious and realistic discourse regarding the implications of U.S. changes for the European bloc. Officials in these capitals appear cognizant of the significant stakes within a broader global context, while also acknowledging their own limitations.
**In Brussels: A Union at the Crossroads**
Belgians, well-known for their quirky humor, have unceremoniously hosted a mural proclaiming “The Future Is Europe” in fading psychedelic aqua on the Rue de la Loi, which runs from Brussels’ EU district to the royal palace. Yet, this purported future seems grim—unless one considers malaise as a viable future. Just days following my visit, the mural was taken down to pave the way for a new office building. Arriving from Washington, I expected Trump’s election to heighten the prevailing anxiety across the continent. I found existing trepidation and malaise, but also a renewed sense of realism and urgency among senior EU and NATO officials I engaged with in Brussels.
Trump’s possible return represents a pivotal moment in the long-standing transatlantic relationship. Fabrice Pothier, the former NATO policy planning chief, describes this scenario— albeit without endorsing it—as “the great undocking,” suggesting a significant estrangement between Europe and America. Concerns pile up as Europe distances itself from America's cultural and national obsessions, contemplating the implications of potential isolationism that might undermine American commitments to European defense, as well as protectionist policies that threaten to damage one of the world's closest commercial relationships.
Historically, even during significant rifts, such as during the Iraq war in 2003, the transatlantic relationship has never approached a “great undocking” since World War II’s conclusion. Acknowledging potential futures is crucial for preventing their realization. Across Europe, most political factions desire to avert this trajectory, including traditionally “anti-American” sentiment in France. This sentiment, however, does not imply a return to the status quo; rather, the relationship—and Europe itself—must evolve. With the right strategy, Europe can clearly demonstrate to the U.S. why its continued investment in the continent is beneficial.
Several factors suggest this scenario is attainable. The two principal leaders in Brussels are adopting a pragmatic stance in preparation for a new Trump administration. Ursula von der Leyen, the German head of the European Commission, avoids the preachy rhetoric of previous leaders when addressing American presidents. Instead, she focuses on a businesslike approach. Meanwhile, Mark Rutte, the former Dutch Prime Minister recently appointed as NATO secretary general, brings fresh vigor to NATO headquarters and reportedly maintains a positive rapport with Trump.
Immediate tests lie ahead. Regarding the ongoing conflict in Ukraine, Trump has, even before officially assuming office, fostered a burgeoning consensus across Europe and Kyiv that a resolution must be sought by early 2025. The worst-case scenario could involve a Trump peace plan that resembles a Vladimir Putin initiative, one that fails to secure Ukrainian sovereignty while leaving doors ajar for further Russian advances, threatening NATO's integrity. Conversely, a favorable scenario could establish a DMZ-like frontline, leaving future control of currently occupied Ukrainian territories undecided, and ensuring a robust security arrangement for Kyiv—potentially with NATO troop involvement in peace enforcement.
“Biden was so frustrating,” a senior NATO official remarked. “I believe Trump can be better. It cannot go on like this.”
Such sentiments were rarely articulated prior to the election. Publicly, Ukrainians and NATO Europeans expressed gratitude to President Joe Biden for uniting them and extending military support to Ukraine against Russian aggression. However, frustrations simmered due to Washington’s hesitance to fully commit to helping Ukraine achieve victory. The indecisiveness and delays regarding military aid left Ukrainian forces mired in a protracted conflict, inadvertently bolstering Putin’s belief that time favored him.
The choice before NATO appears particularly stark. Trump’s past threats to withdraw from the alliance or undermine the Article 5 pledge—which mandates defense against attacks—have long fueled existential dread. Yet, there is less anxiety at NATO than there was in 2017 amid Trump’s threats. Former Secretary-General Jens Stoltenberg managed to convince Trump of NATO’s “usefulness” to America, further cemented by legislation backed by Senator Marco Rubio, aimed at prohibiting any president from unilaterally withdrawing from NATO without Senate approval.
“Actually my greatest worry is an ineffective administration in Washington,” another senior NATO official expressed. “That they go this way or that. The Democrats were like that—they couldn’t make a decision.”
The immediate concern remains the potential deal Washington may pressure Ukrainians into accepting, as the official elaborated.
An ambitious yet pragmatic strategy could bolster military and political support for Ukraine, demonstrating to Putin that his continued aggression incurs greater risks than rewards. France and Britain—both nuclear powers—are said to be quietly discussing enhancing security guarantees for Ukraine in any future peace negotiation, expressing a desire for strong American backing. They are uneasy about whether Trump’s administration will provide such support; the memories of the Suez crisis remain vivid.
Across the way from NATO, the EU grapples with trade uncertainties. Collectively, the EU is America’s largest trading partner. Even if the Trump administration focuses its efforts on imposing tariffs on China, Europe would still bear the repercussions as Chinese exports shift to its markets.
Many individuals in powerful positions carry experiences from Trump’s first term. Some echo his style. An incoming European Commissioner laid out concepts for a potential agreement with Washington, suggesting that the EU could purchase U.S. military hardware and import liquefied natural gas in return for a more lenient trade policy from the U.S. “We need to think, what goodies do we offer the U.S.?” this official stated. Brussels has begun to adapt to Trumpism and “the art of the deal,” even if they haven’t delved into his literature.
“It is in neither European nor American interests to ‘undock,’” remarked a second senior NATO official.
A compelling case for a robust transatlantic partnership might need to be framed within Trump’s parameters. The U.S. military relies on European bases and allies for force projection into the Middle East and broader Asia. Additionally, American military suppliers prioritize the European market—by the end of the decade, over 600 F-35s are anticipated to be operated by European air forces, necessitating ongoing maintenance and eventual replacements.
Europe itself must adopt a sobering perspective as well. After the Cold War, Europe enjoyed a period of relative peace, diverting defense savings into welfare programs, while naively assuming U.S. protection. This era of complacency came and went; the Ukrainian conflict should have been a wake-up call. While eastern Europe has ramped up military readiness and achieved greater economic competitiveness, western European nations largely remain in denial about the shifting geopolitical landscape. Under Trump’s potential reign, such denial may be harder to maintain.
**In Berlin: A Crisis of Leadership**
An essential question for a Europe seeking direction is whether it has leaders capable of forming a new transatlantic relationship with Trump and reestablishing its influence on the global stage.
Berlin is the first place to watch—and avoid for now. The collapse of Germany’s so-called traffic light coalition—comprised of red, yellow, and green parties—occurred the day after Trump’s election. The coalition, which had barely functioned for months, had dashed hopes that Germany would experience a Zeitenwende, as proclaimed by Chancellor Olaf Scholz, heralding a new era of robust defense and diplomatic engagement.
The coalition began with promise, but over time, bureaucratic inefficiencies and a lack of political will undermined its ambition. On Ukraine, Scholz positioned Germany as the leader of the status quo, striving to avoid an escalation that could destabilize Russia even while desiring to prevent Ukraine’s defeat. The return of the term Putinversteher—underscoring the need to understand Putin’s perspectives—has resonated again in Berlin.
Scholz’s foreign reputation has diminished, as many perceive him as indecisive and weak at a pivotal moment when Europe yearns for robust leadership regarding Ukraine. Diplomats described him with remarks such as "a disaster," "hopeless," and "terrible."
Scholz’s deeper problem resides at home. Germany's long-standing, thriving export-driven economic model is faltering under rising energy costs and a fading competitive edge in China. An aging population and stagnated technological innovation are additional burdens, contributing to recessionary pressures that feel like a collective malaise.
Berlin reflects this widespread despondency, transitioning from Europe’s most vibrant city before the pandemic—an energetic hub akin to New York—to a dim and gloomy atmosphere. The current sentiment is compounded by growing support for the far-right AfD party among voters from the economically disadvantaged eastern regions.
This narrative echoes past challenges; more than two decades ago, Germany was considered Europe’s "sick man," a label attributed to a left-leaning chancellor, Gerhard Schröder, who enacted unpopular reforms that laid the groundwork for economic recovery.
A question arises: Who will spearhead the necessary changes now?
“Waiting for Merz,” is a phrase circulating in Berlin, Warsaw, and Brussels. Friedrich Merz, leader of the center-right Christian Democrats, is anticipated to reclaim his political role after having previously lost a power struggle to Angela Merkel. His emergence is viewed favorably in Eastern Europe, with hopes that he will adopt a more proactive stance on Ukraine and reinvigorate Germany’s influence within the EU.
The anticipation surrounding Merz highlights a broader desperation in Europe for decisive leadership. France is hamstrung by its incumbent President Emmanuel Macron, as stability awaits the next presidential election in 2027. With the UK having distanced itself from the EU, Prime Minister Keir Starmer's standing appears uncertain. In contrast, Poland and Italy boast relatively stable governments but remain on the edges of Europe.
Berlin and Europe will linger in their hopes for Merz—or anyone capable—before the elections, since no German votes will occur before Trump assumes office, and any new government may take several weeks or even months to materialize.
**In Warsaw: Fear of Putin, Receptiveness for Trump**
Traveling east from Berlin to Warsaw brings a palpable shift in energy; it feels as though one has journeyed “West.”
In contrast to the stagnation in Berlin, Warsaw exudes a vibrant, entrepreneurial spirit, and is brimming with an energetic youth culture. While political stability and a sense of national mission may be mixed, the atmosphere is undoubtedly more promising than many parts of Europe.
Transformations are visible in Warsaw since its days under Communist control. The city now boasts 278 vegan restaurants, placing it at #11 globally, surpassing renowned culinary hubs like Tokyo and San Francisco.
Years of uninterrupted economic growth—Europe’s most extended run since 1990—have significantly transformed both the nation and its people. The Polish populace has shifted from rural and predominantly Catholic origins to a confident, modern society looking ahead.
However, Poland stands as a pivotal country in the Trump-era European landscape, primarily due to its geographical positioning on Europe’s frontline with Russia. With the highest defense spending in Europe relative to GDP, dedicating nearly 5 percent of its budget to military endeavors, Poland is determined to confront the challenges posed by Putin. This positions Poland as a counterargument to Trump’s criticisms that many Europeans do not take their defense responsibilities seriously.
While many in the core of Europe appear vulnerable, Poland is among several eastern flank countries that Trump admires, and it reciprocates that sentiment. Finland, NATO’s most recent member, shares a historical wariness toward Russia, stemming from the century-old Winter War, and maintains its military focus accordingly. The three Baltic states sandwiched between Finland and Poland exhibit similar resolve.
Next year, Poland will face a pivotal opportunity amid a turning point for the continent. While Paris and Berlin might falter, Poland is poised to lead, bolstered by experienced leaders like Prime Minister Donald Tusk and Foreign Minister Radek Sikorski. Assuming the rotating EU presidency will provide Poland more than purely symbolic authority. Trump’s warmest reception during his first European visit was in Warsaw in 2017, a positive sentiment that persists.
From an external perspective, Poland’s potential is evident. Nonetheless, doubts linger domestically. “We’re still one of the poorer countries in Europe—seventh from the bottom in per capita terms—and sometimes we think like one,” remarked Andrzej Olechowski, a former Polish finance and foreign minister.
“It’s hard for mid-sized countries like Poland to play a key role in resolving the Ukrainian crisis,” added Pawel Kowal, a Polish parliamentarian and government envoy for Ukraine.
Despite transformative economic growth, Polish politics remain insular and contentious—perhaps more so than in many other regions. Tusk’s comeback last year marked the end of a nearly decade-long reign of a populist party, Law and Justice, but next spring’s presidential elections hold uncertainties that could jeopardize his position. A potential defeat would mirror Tusk’s fears of becoming a temporary leader, akin to Biden, caught between the threats of populism.
Spending time in Warsaw ignites a longing for political narratives to reflect the city’s vibrant culture and cuisine. The need is for visionary thinking, creativity, and focused determination—particularly regarding the crucial historic opportunity for Poland and Europe in 2025: to secure the eastern flank by aiding Ukraine and countering Putin's influence. This challenge is both historic and existential, encapsulating the resilience symbolized in the anthems of both Poland and Ukraine, which begin with the line asserting their nations “aren’t dead—yet.”
Sanya Singh for TROIB News